Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Wilderness

The reed tossed her hair in the wind today.
Tomorrow, the brook will, too.
Crystal foam, diamond light, amethyst stones
On a bend where the breezes blew.
The herons danced in the rain today.
Tomorrow, the fireflies will, too.
Fields on fields of small bright flames
Flickering, then dying, then burning anew.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Shadow Seeker

There are easier meadows then those I tread.
More beautiful places one may rest their head.
Blowing reeds, bent by a passing breath
Sprinkles of seeds in the graying west.
The soft, fuzzy rim of the world is setting,
The sounds of crows in the forest abetting;
I can see one robin in a dusk-edged tree
Placing an expressionless eye on me.
I must go away through the stone lined meadow
And find a place not sought by shadow.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

A Part of My Soul

In the morning, I see a star
I know not where it comes from,
Nor where it goes.
Its loneliness, its evidence
Of foreign regions and far-blown snows,
Its breath the crystalized intelligence
Of irregular show.
It is the random quantam of my
Breath,
A savage piece of goodness,
Greatness, glory;
Though long ago I ceased to
Know from whence it went,
It is my legend and my endless story.
In the evening, it fades and drops
From earth its mysteries
Are rent,
And nothing comes again to
Break its heart,
Or burn a symbol in its chest;
So--so---it is mine,
Always and ever,
The star in the ether of the
Twilight sky
The turning crucifix of wonder
And desire.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Sea Loss

I have set sail across the sea.
'Tis only myself, and I, and me.
The gulls that fly in clouds above
Only have rights to all my love.
Far in the distance, horizons away
The soft slim fins of dolphins play;
The diamond waves caress the breeze.
'Tis only myself, and I, and me.

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Shift

The wind on the summer moor is bright with the breath
Of a thousand white gulls as they soar through the heath,
And a still ivory flag on a cottage by the stones
Stands, uncared for and alone.
The sea roars on: there is foam on the heels
Of the brassy, lichen covered ship rusted over steel
And a girl in brown stockings stands on the cliff
Where the gulls fly by and the summer winds shift.